


Never Let Me Go

by PassionPhantom



Category: Supernatural
Genre: ...sort of, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Amara is a little OOC but that's done on purpose., Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Aunt Amara (Supernatural), Castiel and Dean Winchester are Neighbors, Castiel has Agoraphobia, Castiel likes R&B and Pop, Dean likes rock and hip hop, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, Family Drama, Friendship/Love, Homophobic Language, Hurt Castiel (Supernatural), M/M, Mary and Amara are friends, No Amara/Dean Winchester, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Child Abuse, Protective Dean Winchester, Rape, Romance, Sexual Abuse, Small Towns, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2020-11-03 21:20:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20707172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PassionPhantom/pseuds/PassionPhantom
Summary: After being released from the hospital, Castiel Novak moves in with his Aunt Amara in the small town of Ravenwood, Michigan. Injured by wounds that are more than just skin deep, Castiel stays indoors too often and finds he's still depressed. Then he meets Dean Winchester, the town mechanic, who happens to be his next-door neighbor. Dean revolutionizes Castiel's life and teaches him what it means to be a stronger person in the process.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tfw_cas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tfw_cas/gifts), [goodlivin2u](https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodlivin2u/gifts), [Knowmefirst](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Knowmefirst/gifts).

> First things first, this means a lot to me and I am posting it during an extremely hard time in my life. I've always wanted this story to be my top-secret fic that was going to be perfect in every sense of the word. But I realized now that nothing in life is ever perfect in any way and instead of procrastinating on _ Never Let Me Go _, I've decided to just go ahead and post it. And update it as much as I can as the time comes. I really hope you guys enjoy this fic and all it will offer you whether its laughs, loving romance, sexy smut or heart-wrenching angst. Please enjoy it to the fullest <3
> 
> This is for my friends goodliving2u, tfw_cas, and Knowmefirst. All of whom I have talked to like a maniac about this top-secret fic. lol let's see what happens, ladies! <3 Love you all <3 <3 <3

Castiel laid still on the cream carpet. His body was limp, his face was swollen, and his breathing was shallow, as his chest caved in very short breaths. Castiel’s ribs and right arm were broken. Both of his eyes were blackened, with the left eye nearly swollen shut. 

The house was in ruins from the fight with his father, Chuck. The glass table in the dining room was shattered. Large gaping holes were in the walls, and Castiel’s blood was everywhere.

It was inevitable that this day would come, after so much hurt and sorrow.

The accident.

The mistakes. 

The spirit of depression lingering within the house. Chuck was sure to lose his mind sooner or later, with all his pent-up rage at his son; all of his own agony boiling and building to an uncontrollable peak. 

Tonight was the night, and it was dark. It was cold, and Castiel lay dying on the floor, wanting his mother and brother…

“Mom…Gabe.” Castiel groaned, then remembered. They were gone. Forever. 

But still, there was Aunt Amara. Cas remembered her, and what she had said, 

_ “Whenever you need me, call me. Okay?” _

That was months ago and Castiel didn't do it. He thought he didn't deserve the help. 

That he was hopeless, especially after the accident. 

_ But now... _something had to change. 

Reaching into his pocket, Castiel grabbed his old cell phone and searched for his Aunt Amara’s number with a bloody hand, watching as the deep redness smeared over the phone’s cracked screen. He searched his contacts. 

Finding it, Castiel didn't hesitate to hit the call button. 

  
  


“Hello.” Amara Novak picked up the phone quickly when she realized who it was. 

On the other line, Castiel could barely speak. All he could do--before passing out--was

make out his own words,

“Help me.” 


	2. 'I Think His Name Is Castiel'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶c̶u̶r̶r̶e̶n̶t̶ ̶c̶h̶a̶p̶t̶e̶r̶ ̶i̶s̶ ̶u̶n̶-̶b̶e̶t̶a̶'̶d̶ ̶a̶t̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶m̶o̶m̶e̶n̶t̶ ̶b̶e̶c̶a̶u̶s̶e̶ ̶I̶ ̶w̶a̶s̶ ̶t̶o̶o̶ ̶e̶x̶c̶i̶t̶e̶d̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶w̶a̶i̶t̶.̶ ̶E̶n̶j̶o̶y̶ ̶i̶t̶ ̶i̶n̶ ̶i̶t̶s̶ ̶r̶a̶w̶ ̶g̶l̶o̶r̶y̶.̶ ̶I̶ ̶w̶i̶l̶l̶ ̶b̶e̶ ̶b̶a̶c̶k̶ ̶w̶i̶t̶h̶ ̶a̶ ̶b̶e̶t̶a̶'̶d̶ ̶c̶h̶a̶p̶t̶e̶r̶ ̶i̶n̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶f̶u̶t̶u̶r̶e̶.̶ ̶P̶l̶e̶a̶s̶e̶ ̶e̶x̶c̶u̶s̶e̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶m̶i̶s̶t̶a̶k̶e̶s̶ ̶
> 
> **Edit:** Now Beta'd by my friend tfw_cas. Thanks mum! <3 lol

The morning came with a calm chill, overcast skies, and silver raindrops falling here and there. Strange yet typical midwestern weather in the lateness of March, with crisp air and a lightness in the atmosphere. The small town, Ravenwood, was completely quiet under the greyish sky. It was seven a.m. and it was too early for loud conversations, hooting, and howling. People were too busy trying to steal a few more moments of sleep, before finally having to stumble out of bed and make their way to work. They were too bothered with their daily lives to complain about the chilly weather. 

Down the main road of Ravenwood, across rusted train tracks, and near Rushwell Lake, was an old green house on Baxton street, with yellow shutters and rose bushes with no roses. There were cracks in the sidewalks and pathways that needed to be fixed, and the grass grew extremely high, with weeds developing amongst the flower beds. 

On the back porch by a set of uneven stairs sat a middle-aged, yet beautiful woman, with long dark hair and peachy cream skin. Smoking a few cigarettes and sipping on a large pink mug of coffee, Amara Novak wore a thick faux-fur coat over her thin silk nightgown. Her favorite old fluffy slippers were on her feet with creamy wool socks, and she didn’t care as the cool breeze blew right through her, making her body shiver harshly. 

Amara’s mind ran wild with worrisome thoughts. It pained her as her mind jumped back and forth non-stop. 

The bills had stacked up high over the past few months, and Amara was barely making ends meet. Her car needed repairs from the brutal winter that just passed, the water pipes needed to be fixed inside the old house, and the heater was on the fritz. It was cold in every room, and the constant dripping of water from the faucet, in both the bathrooms and kitchen, nearly drove the woman insane. 

Low on cash and short on hours at the hotel where she worked, Amara remained hesitant to call her neighbor’s son to ask for any favors. The word had spread around the small city like wildfire; the Winchesters’ oldest boy was back in town after being gone for three years. He was back to work on repairing cars, plumbing, and doing basic yard work around the neighborhood for just a small fee. 

Amara knew that Dean wouldn’t charge her because of her close friendship with his mother, Mary. But still, Amara chose to wait out the season until she was able to come up with the cash to pay the Winchesters, despite Mary’s continuous reassurance that Dean wouldn’t mind helping her out. Looking around the yard and turning to look at the old house, Amara sighed silently. The peculiar thing was that her worrisome thoughts this morning weren’t of the utility bills on the kitchen counter, or the major damages around the house in desperate need of attention. Amara Novak’s mind was on her young nephew, Castiel.

He had just arrived yesterday evening, and was sleeping in the spare bedroom upstairs. Finishing her cigarette and her coffee, Amara turned and stepped into her house. Inherited from her father, after his passing, Amara took as much care of the house as she could, keeping the wallpapered kitchen and living room clean and making sure the extra bedrooms didn’t collect too much dust. The towels and blankets were always clean and readily available for any guest who decided to pop by, and there was always food in the fridge. 

Amara made do with the things she had and sought out, to make sure things were always as neat as possible, especially now since Castiel was going to be staying with her. Exercising the effort to be quiet, she moved throughout her small kitchen and made herself another cup of coffee. Sipping it slow and moving toward the fridge, she thought to herself, ‘I might as well make Cas some breakfast.’ Opening the fridge door and reaching for the eggs and the large package of bacon, Amara began her small task, feeling a little bit better inside as she began to prepare the food.

‘This will probably make him feel much more welcomed,’ Amara thought, as she began to cook while stepping around the kitchen quietly, conscious of not making too much noise that could wake up her nephew. 

Upstairs in the spare bedroom, Castiel laid wide awake inside an old twin sized bed. Watching the grey white sky from his window, he listened to his aunt’s quiet movements coming from the kitchen. He didn't sleep a wink at all throughout the night, and the morning came so slowly for him. Cas was disappointed with how the day broke away from the night, only to be even colder and more dreary. He sighed. The room he was in was stuffy with tight air, and the eighteen-year-old lay still, underneath the scratchy wool blankets. He felt immobilized by the thickness of the comforters, and knowing well enough that his Aunt Amara wanted him to feel as at home as possible. 

Castiel could understand it, and he was appreciative. Being in the hospital for nearly two months wasn’t a comforting experience, nor were the reasons he was hospitalized. The young man blinked, and continued to look at the sky outside the bedroom window. His broken right arm was casted, with straps wrapped snugly over his left shoulder. His fractured ribs were healing slowly and his blackened eyes--which were once nearly swollen shut---were now open, with less swelling. 

Castiel licked his dry lips, and took a few deep harsh breaths into his mouth. Tired of being on his back, the young man carefully rolled his lithe body to the side, ignoring the smarting pain in his ribs or the tears falling down the sides of his face. All throughout the night he’d laid still, remembering what happened, what his father did, and how he would be in prison from now on. Castiel sniffled and tucked his head low to his chest, his heart heavy and reminding himself of his father’s rage. 

‘I knew I deserved it, but still Dad didn't have to do that to me….he didn't have to hurt me. Not like that.’ The thoughts formed in Castiel’s mind, and blossomed with weeds that were thicker than the ones in Aunt Amara’s front yard. ‘I deserve...I deserve to be killed for what I’ve done…..so I guess...that maybe all this isn't so uncalled for.’

Aunt Amara’s footsteps became more hurried through the kitchen, just as Castiel closed his eyes and allowed his thoughts to roam at the same beat and pace. 

_ Chuck’s furious face drunk with rage. His fist pounding into Castiel's chest…. _

Amara’s footsteps pacing through the kitchen.

_ Chuck’s fist slamming into Castiel’s face… _

Footsteps. 

Footsteps. 

Aunt Amara’s quickened footsteps. 

_ Chuck pulling and twisting on Castiel’s right arm until it snapped. Castiel’s cries reverberating throughout the living room…. _

Castiel's cries reverberating throughout the bedroom….

“AHHH!”

Just as Amara finished breakfast and fixed up the table she heard him. Rushing through the hallway, running up the stairs and nearly stumbling on the way, Amara shouted for her nephew, 

“Cas!! CAS!!!” 

Castiel's screams made her heart race with anxiety, and Amara burst into the room to see her nephew thrashing and clutching onto his broken arm.

“STOP, DAD! PLEASE!!!!” 

Amara ran to Cas and grabbed him, making him cease the thrashing and twisting on his mending arm. She touched his face and held Castiel, trying her best to comfort him rocking him back and forth.    
“Shh shh, Castiel I got you. It’s okay he can't hurt you anymore. He's not here anymore. He's gone.”

Castiel shuddered in pain as he heard his aunt and felt her embrace, but his heart was still lost. 

“I deserved it. I deserved everything he did to me.” Castiel sobbed. 

“No. No, Castiel.” Amara shook her head and touched Cas’ hair. “You don't. Don't say that ...look at me. Look at me.” 

Castiel slowly opened his bruised eyes, his vision blurry from the tears. Amara pressed her lips together and furrowed her brow. Her voice was thick with reassurance for her nephew, “You don't ever deserve to be hurt. You only deserve to be loved.”

“But what about my mom?” Castiel wept and shook. 

Amara frowned and fell quiet... The anxiety she felt within herself was breaking her, but she fought it. She fought it with all her might, because Castiel needed someone to be strong for him. Standing up, Amara readjusted herself and sat next to Cas on the bed. Facing him and taking his good hand into hers, a simple moment of silence passed before she said.

“Your mother loved you. And she would have never wished or believed you deserved to be hurt like that. Castiel. Listen to me, your mother loved you so much. I love you so much. Believe that...okay...for me?”

Castiel felt both the physical pain in his body, and the emotional pain in his heart, loosen as his aunt spoke kindly to him. He breathed and even leaned in as Amara took hold of him again. 

“You're safe now and you’re getting well. That's all that matters right now Castiel. And I am here for you. No matter what. Okay?” 

Castiel nodded slightly, and Amara smiled a little then said, 

“I want to hear you say okay...at least say okay.”

Castiel nodded again, and finally spoke after holding his breath for a small second. 

“Okay, Auntie Amara.”

Amara smiled more warmly at Castiel then asked, 

“Are you hungry? I made breakfast.”

Castiel sat up slowly and pulled away from Amara’s gentle embrace and nodded his head, “ Yes.”

“Okay, come on.” Amara helped Castiel up off the bed and led him out of the room slowly. In the kitchen the two sat together, eating carefully. 

“Do you need help, Cas?” Amara asked

Castiel shook his head. Using his left hand, he decided to eat very cautiously, feeling unreal and untapped within himself, but he didn't want his aunt to worry about him. 

But it was too late, Amara was already worried, “Sweetheart, I want you to know that you're welcome to talk about anything; you're safe here with me,” Amara said.

Castiel looked up from his plate and nodded slightly, and Amara took the hint that he didn't want to talk, so she went silent, looking around the kitchen. 

After a few moments, Amara got up and made herself another cup of coffee. 

“Feel free to get more if you want, okay, hun?” Amara said, and Castiel nodded his head in reply. Another silent moment passed, with Amara sipping her coffee and Castiel eating his food slowly. 

Deep down Cas was still screaming...but he kept himself at bay. He didn't want to scare Amara again, so he just remained as quiet and stoic as possible, eating the buttery eggs and salty bacon slowly, chewing and swallowing carefully while listening to the birds chirp and insects buzz pass the window. Amara took another sip of her coffee, readying to speak lightly to Cas ...but then there was a sudden knock on the side door. Castiel flinched at the sound and looked up to Amara. Her eyebrows rose.

“Must be Mary.” Amara said, putting her cup down and walking toward the door. It wasn't Mary Winchester who was at the door but Dean, a young man with sandy brown hair, green eyes, and a strong build. As soon as Amara opened the door Dean smiled politely. 

“Hey there, Dean, good morning!” Amara was taken aback a little, but she smiled and unlocked the screen door. 

“Hi, Amara. How are you doing?” Dean asked as the woman invited him in. 

“I’m good. We're good.” Amara answered and gave Dean a sincere hug. But in the back of her head, Amara wondered if Castiel’s screaming had been loud enough for the Winchesters to hear. 

“We’re?” Dean asked simply with raised brows. It was to his knowledge that Amara Novak lived alone in the old green house that was next door to his mother’s. Amara looked at Dean’s perplexed expression, and was relieved.

“Oh! I mean my nephew and I.” Amara turned to look over her shoulder to gesture at Castiel, but he was no longer at the kitchen table.

Amara raised her eyebrows.

“Cas!?” She called, and walked through the little kitchen heading toward the adjacent living room. Dean Winchester watched her go with a little confused frown. 

Castiel had moved to the living room and sat on the couch. Grabbing the remote and turning on the T.V. set, Castiel flipped the channels nonchalantly, pretending to be casual, when in reality he didn’t want anyone to see him. He was too afraid to allow anyone else other than his aunt to see his bruises and injuries.

Amara peeked around the corner and met Castiel’s gaze. Cas immediately shook his head at her, and Amara understood without a word needing to be said. She nodded to her nephew and turned around back to her neighbor’s son. 

Amara looked to him and shrugged casually. “He’s going back to sleep actually...knocked out like a light.” 

Dean nodded. He suspected something else since the T.V. had just been turned on, but he knew it wasn’t his place to question the goings-on in other people’s houses. So he said honestly, 

“Sorry, Amara. I didn't mean to come over this early. But Mom told me to stop by, and take care of your car before I headed to the shop with Uncle Bobby for the day.”

“Oh my God, Dean...I told Mary not to worry about that. I have nothing to pay you until the first of the month.” Amara pulled her thin brows together tightly and folded her arms. 

Dean shook his head and smiled lightly, “Mom said you’d say that...but we both agreed that you are too proud to ask for help when you need it the most, so that's why I’m here now.”

Amara scoffed at Dean and sighed, “let me guess; you already have your tools outside by the car…”

“And the hood’s already up.” Dean chuckled and readied to turn around and head over to the door, when he suddenly noticed the small figure hiding in the corner of the kitchen doorway.

Dean blinked unthinkingly as he saw Amara’s young nephew. Castiel didn't mean to get up to his feet and walk over, but for a brief delicate moment he wanted to catch an actual glimpse of who his aunt was speaking to.

There was just something in the young man's deep voice; a confidence and friendliness that seemed genuine. And as he caught a glimpse of Dean Winchester, Castiel very subtly lost his breath. Dean looked just like how he spoke. Polite, friendly, and handsome, it made Castiel blush a little with interest. Though as Dean looked up and saw him, Castiel froze. It was only for a split second, but their eyes met and the world seemed to wash away. 

Dean’s gentle green eyes saw Castiel's darkly bruised blues, deep secrets being revealed through their glance as they saw each other. Dean was amiable. Castiel was wounded. In their glance there was a testament of truth and healing. Something that was beyond them happened in that second, then it was over in a flash as soon as they both blinked. Castiel turned back to the living room quickly and Dean gave his attention back to Amara. She didn't notice the second between them, as she had her attention on pouring another cup of coffee.

“Thank you, Dean. I will make sure to pay you as soon as I can, okay?” 

Dean looked to Amara and shook his head. “Don't worry about it.” Then he winked at the woman and turned to step out into the cool morning. Amara smiled warmly, and was defeated by the young man's kindness. Amazed by the Winchester family, her best friend Mary especially, Amara smirked and sipped her coffee. Putting the mug down on the counter, she sighed again and called for her nephew, 

“Cas!” She walked back into the living room. “You okay?”

Sitting on the couch and looking at his aunt, Castiel nodded, struggling to position himself comfortably because of his arm and ribs. 

“What do you want to do today?” Amara asked softly, and joined her nephew on the couch. 

Castiel moved up carefully to make space, shaking his head at his aunt. 

“I don't want to do anything ...Who was that?”

“Oh, that was Dean Winchester, Mary’s son. You remember my good friend, Mary, right?” 

Castiel furrowed his brow, and shook his head again. 

“Well, she remembers you. I've told her about you.”

“Auntie you didn't…”

“I’ve only told her about you coming to stay with me. That's all, dear,”

Amara reassured, and leaned back on the couch, studying Cas and knowing him a little more than himself. Feeling hurt for him and wanting to comfort him, Amara knew that Castiel's wounds were more than just physical. Emotional and mental scars that would have to take time in order to heal. 

“Castiel, take as long as you need okay.” Amara said. 

Castiel looked to her, listening to his Aunt as she continued, “I understand that you may not want anyone to see you, because of what happened and what your father did ...don't be ashamed of your wounds Castiel.” 

Castiel remained silent until he shook his head again, knowing what his Aunt meant, and knowing it was about how he hid when Dean Winchester came to the door. 

“I just don't want to do anything or talk to anybody.” Castiel mumbled. 

Amara frowned and watched as Cas stood up. 

“I hope you don't mind Auntie. I'm just going to lay back down upstairs.”

“Okay, Cas.” Amara said with a hint of sorrow in her voice. “Let me know if you are hungry or anything, okay.”

“Okay.” Castiel walked away and carefully headed up to the spare room. In the bedroom Castiel crawled into bed slowly, hoping to watch the greyish sky again and drift off to sleep. And as Castiel rested he thought of everything that had happened. 

‘He's in prison now. And I am here with Auntie ...everything will be okay,’ Castiel thought...trying to keep himself from screaming again. Relaxing himself from the anxiety he felt, Castiel breathed, and began to wonder about the young man, Dean; his confident and friendly voice, and how they had seen each other for that split second. 

. . . 

“Dean, how is Amara? Did you let her know I said it was okay?” Mary Winchester asked, just as Dean walked back into the house. Being next door to the Novaks, Dean had the convenience of the short walking distance, which gave him a little extra time to hang back before he had to go to work.

“Yeah, it looks like she’ll need a new motor and a good battery to get the old Ford going again,” Dean answered, as he walked into the kitchen where his mother was.

Going to the sink and washing his grubby hands, Dean went to grab the leftover breakfast burritos he had been eating before Mary asked him to go work on Amara’s car. 

“Shit….why didn't she just say something earlier.” Mary said, and sighed deeply. “You’re telling me she went all through winter with a banged up car?” 

“Yeah, Mom, but you know her more than I do. So you’d understand why.” 

“Actually, I don’t,” Mary admitted, with her own heart dropping slightly. “She’s been too proud to tell me what’s really up with her.”

Dean nodded as he bit into his sausage egg burrito, and Mary shook her head, looking out of the window. 

“Did you know that her nephew is staying with her now?”

“Now, that I do know. Which is a good thing, because I know that she gets lonely in that old house all by herself.” 

“Why not invite her over then, Mom?” Dean asked.

“Why doesn’t she actually invite herself over, instead of being stubborn and forcibly introverted?” Mary retorted and scoffed. It was to her knowledge, that after Amara’s last divorce she fell deeply depressed in her own way, picking up little addictions like drinking more caffeine then she should and smoking more heavily. 

Mary pressed her lips together and worried about her friend, until Dean said to her, 

“Well, Mom, we are helping her out now whether she likes it or not. And besides, her lawn looks like it needs a lot of work as well. So I’ll make sure to take care of that.” 

“Good, because I don't know what else is up with that woman.” Mary nodded to Dean and got back to finishing up her housework.

It had been three years since Dean left. Three long years, and Mary didn’t care what happened before, she was just glad to have her son back home where he belonged. But there was an elephant in the room, something that the two were ducking and dodging since Dean came back into the house. Mary waited a moment as Dean finished off his breakfast, and Dean could feel Mary’s words before she actually said them

“Dean ...you should go see your father after work.”

“No, I don't have time for that.” Dean spoke quickly and moved away, feigning interest in the old wallpaper. 

“Dean….”

“Mom.” Dean turned to her, anger boiling as she continued, 

“It’s been three years, Dean.” Mary spoke lowly. “You should go see him before it’s too late--” 

“IF HE DIDN'T WANT TO SEE ME THEN...THEN HE DOESN’T WANT TO SEE ME NOW!” Dean shouted suddenly, making his mother jump back. Footsteps scrambled from upstairs, and came down rapidly closer to the kitchen. It was Sammy; he had been half asleep until he heard Dean’s shout. 

“Hey what’s going on?” the tall, long haired teenager asked, and watched as his older brother shook his head. 

Mary huffed and ordered, “Dean, go see your father after work, and take Sam with you.” 

“Sammy can go see Dad on his own.” Dean scoffed, before grabbing his keys and striding out, passing Sam and heading for the front door, slamming it behind him. 

Deciding to go to work early, he walked over to the old Impala that was parked in between Amara’s house and his mother’s. As he walked by, Dean caught a glimpse of the dark haired young man in the upstairs window, when he looked up without thinking.

Castiel had just walked past the window when he saw Dean Winchester looking up at him, their eyes locking together again from a distance, until they both quickly looked away. 

Castiel turned and headed back to bed, trying not to think too much, while outside, Dean got into his father’s old Impala and drove to work. 

  
  
  
  
  


Stepping into the old auto shop, Dean walked past Bobby and Rufus, who were bickering over the winning team from last night’s basketball game.

“I’m telling you it’s all about Stephen Curry. The boy is just a better shot than Lebron. And Lebron needs to stop going for titles and stay in his lane. He’s a good player and all, but he’ll never be Michael Jordan,” Rufus said with a thick voice and raised eyebrows. 

“Okay, okay! See, that’s where you I got to stop ya’ self. Because we all know they rigged the hell out of that game, and made sure Lebron didn’t get that last shot in.” Bobby spoke finally, lifting his head away from the box of leftover Chinese he was eating for breakfast. Rufus stole an eggroll and replied, 

“Well, better luck next time, King James!” Rufus laughed, and bit into the vegetable roll and looked up, just in time to see Dean Winchester walk into the shop’s office. 

“Oh, look at what the hell we have here!” Rufus said, and sat back in his chair. Bobby looked over his shoulder and saw Dean. 

Dean gestured a nod toward the older men, but continued to walk to his own station. Dropping off his supplies and walking into the back office, Dean opened the shared fridge and reached for a bottle of water. His thirst was real, but Dean was also finding much time to stall before having to work, knowing very well what Rufus and Bobby were going to do before they even did it.

“Boy, you got a lot of nerve showing up in here when I told you not to come in,” Bobby shouted across the office area. Dean rolled his eyes and knew it was inevitable, so he turned and walked back over to the men. 

“We need the cash, Bobby,” Dean said, trying to come up with an excuse. 

Rufus chortled, and Bobby shook his head,

“I loaned Mary enough to last her for the next two months. Go back home, Winchester. Take care of your mother and go see John.” Bobby pointed at Dean aggressively, and it made Dean lift his hands up in feigned defeat. 

“I’m not going to see the old man. Not after what he did.” 

“Oh boo hoo. So he kicked you out when you turned eighteen. Every parent has a right to do that. You were old enough to argue and fight his ass, boy. You were old enough to be on your own. And the same thing would apply to Sam if he was a knucklehead like you, and if John wasn’t sick.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Bobby… You have no idea what it was like on those streets. I was homeless for three fucking years.” 

Bobby and Rufus went quiet, staring at Dean as if he’d said the dumbest thing in the world. But Dean stood firm, he didn’t care that the two of them were John’s army buddies from Vietnam. He didn’t care about how much more they’d been through than him, or that his problems paled against theirs. Dean stood, unwavering, which made Rufus and Bobby scoff at the same damn time. 

“You got some nerve kid, saying that. I knew your dad back when I had nothing...when we both had nothing...and if you think a few years being out on your own is anything compared to being in the jungle, then you’re in for a rude awakening.” 

Dean gulped, ignoring the fact the he struck a nerve for Bobby by saying that. But before Bobby could continue lecturing Dean, Rufus stopped him by saying, 

“Dean, just go see your pops… Shit, we all saw him last night and he ain't doing too good. Doctors got him all shaved up from the chemo. He’s thin, Dean.”

“I know! I get it.” Dean snapped and turned to walk away, heading toward the front side of the office where a customer stood now, waiting to get assistance for a flat tire. 

  
  


The day went by slowly, as Dean worked despite Bobby’s orders. Laboring non-stop, the young man changed multiple sets of tires, installed new car batteries, and fixed engines and motor belts. 

It was all he could do to keep his mind off the given situation. ‘I’m not going to see that son of a bitch…’ Dean thought to himself while on break. Standing in the back of the shop he watched the overcast skies and longed to see blue ...blue eyes ...swollen and blackened. 

It was an odd thought, but Dean let it flow. Hell, the thought reminded Dean to fix Amara’s broken down Ford and manage her yard. But still, Amara’s young nephew couldn’t have been more than eighteen.

In that split second when Dean looked over to the boy, he felt it. Amara’s nephew had looked so hurt and abused. Wounded. 

So much, that Dean couldn’t help but feel deeply for him in that millisecond. Not sorry...not pity exactly, but it was something... and it was both warm and heavy. 

It was strange, not knowing someone and suddenly...somehow caring for them. And the thoughts wandered in Dean’s mind, well into the evening when he left Bobby’s shop. 

Driving home slowly and listening to the cassettes that belonged to John, Dean’s mind was a wreck, jumping back and forth between what everyone was saying, and all he had to do for everyone. It was a mess. Though as Dean drove, he realized found peace in thinking of the boy next door, and how he felt when he looked at him... 

Pulling into the driveway, it was late, and Dean made sure to be quiet as he went into his house. He didn’t want to wake Mary or Sammy up, and of course it was for selfish reasons. Dean just didn’t want to hear them ask if he saw John or not.

Dean walked up the creaking staircase, and made his way to his old bedroom, that was way too small for the full size bed and large dresser he had. 

It was strange for him to actually be back in his parents’ house after so many years. Dean had expected them to change his old room into a home office, or something parents do when their children leave the nest...or more like forced out of the nest. 

Dean sighed and climbed into bed. The room was a mess and he didn't care. As long as he stayed busy during the days; as long as he stayed working on everyone else's problems, then Dean could ignore his own. He could ignore his need to see his dad. 

He fought the tears that threatened to seep out his eyes; he fought them hard, and he rolled onto his back, only to find them slipping down the sides of his face. Dean bit his upper lip and cursed himself. 

‘I don’t have time for this crying bull shit.’ Dean thought, shaking his head and turning back onto his side after a while. His thoughts went haywire once more, and it hurt to have them ruminating in his mind all at once. It made his heart ache with a hefty anxiety, and Dean suppressed the urge to scream. 

But then he thought again of the guy in the house next door. 

Amara’s nephew. The boy had pale skin and dark hair...a broken arm and two bruised blackened eyes.

‘Who the fuck did that to him?’ Dean thought, as he found a strange comfort in thinking of the younger guy. ‘I wonder what happened to him...how did he get that way? I wonder if he is okay tonight.” 

Dean just let go of everything, and his anxiety began to calm down as he thought more and more of the young man. 

‘I like his eyes...despite the bruises,'' Dean admitted to himself in the darkened corners of his mind. ‘What is his name again? I can’t seem to remember….’ 

Dean furrowed his brow and relaxed, as he finally started to drift off to sleep. 

‘Castiel…’ Dean thought, rolling over into a more comfortable position, with his pillow beneath his head. ‘I think his name is Castiel.’


	3. 'I Want To See Him in Real Life.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is currently edited with Grammarly. (please excuse my mistakes. I will update with revisions later.)

The days passed as Castiel remained inside his Aunt’s home. It wasn’t exactly agoraphobia, not completely...but the early development of it through his depression, regret, and anxieties. All of it balled into a fear and a want, a deep solid want to stay indoors. 

Castiel desired to be left alone, hiding away from the world and all its responsibilities. He was fearful of his responsibilities, whatever they were, Cas didn’t want them. He didn’t want to think, act, or feel. The young man just simply wanted to no longer exist.

Yet, young Castiel was free in his journals and sketchbooks. He enjoyed drawing stories and writing poetry. He didn't care about the world and the light of day. He preferred the dark corners of his bedroom while spending nights alone as Amara worked at the hotel near the Rushwell service drive. Waiting for her to return home before going to sleep in the morning.

The nights were his as he wrote and drew. Though there was an ache in his wounds and the snapping pain in his right arm as he had attempted to write with it. It was brutal and maddening, but Castiel dealt with it and wrote with his left hand. It wasn't the same still it allowed him to escape into his magical worlds, his dramas, and erotic romances.

Romances always got to him because Castiel always wanted to be in love. To be loved by someone romantically. The thought of being in someone’s arms and being vulnerable made Castiel’s mind swim in a daze and his body loose and warm. Castiel almost felt happy. Then after a moment, his thoughts would change and he’d think of the young man that lived next door.

_ His green eyes and sandy hair. _

_ His deep voice. His rough hands. _

Castiel would close his eyes and think about him. Aching and allowing his mind to wander before he gathered the strength to move on. Moving on and admitting to himself that he didn’t deserve love. He didn't deserve to be loved at all in any way possible. Not after what he did.

Not after all the damage, he caused to his family. 

**

*****

  
  


“Cas you should really go get some fresh air.” Amara said one morning as Castiel walked down the stairs and came into the kitchen, sleepily. The sun was up high in the late afternoon and Amara was sitting at the table smoking Newport’s and drinking her third cup of coffee. Castiel frowned. 

“No, thanks, Auntie.” he then replied blandly before getting a glass of water and going directly back upstairs to writing in his journal. Ensuring that Amara wouldn’t bother him. Amara was at a loss of heart with her dear nephew. She couldn’t yell at him or be stern like she wanted to and God how she needed to help him. But tough love wasn’t going to be a good option. 

Castiel had already been through enough of that with her brother, Chuck. Yet Amara had a thought as she listened to Castiel’s footsteps work up the staircase. It clicked to her so simple and clear. Amara noticed something, a behavior Castiel would partake in whenever Dean would come over to work on her car. He would hide away and act shy. Amara nearly laughed at the thought she had and remembered catching Cas looking at the young man in the window one day. Amara didn't say anything to disturb Cas she just noticed him for a brief second looking at Dean Winchester. Then she sighed when Castiel returned to his writing. 

_ One day later.  _

“Mary, do you think Dean could help Castiel?” Amara asked while smoking a cigarette in Mary’s kitchen. The two of them were chatting about nothing special and complaining about utility bills when Amara finally popped the question she had been aching to ask since yesterday morning. 

“With what?” Mary lifted her brows and poured the hot coffee she had made into two mugs. The Winchester home was warm with an inviting aura despite all the trouble with Mary’s husband being in the hospital. Mary kept up with everything as much as she could but it was John’s retirement check that really kept her afloat.

“Well, Castiel has had some issues with adapting to living here. He never wants to come out of the house since being released from the hospital. But I’ve realized, something Mary…” 

“What’s that?” Mary sipped her coffee.

“Castiel has a little crush on Dean.” Amara laughed and took her coffee from Mary. Mary shook her head and chuckled…

“Yeah him and every other girl and guy in this town. I hear Dean’s phone going off daily and I know more than half of those calls aren’t just people calling for their cars to be fixed.” 

The women laughed and Amara continued on to ask, 

“But what do you think about the possibility of Dean and Cas being friends?” 

“Well, if your nephew wants to have friends then he will have to step out of the house. Besides Dean is friendly enough to introduce himself anyway. How old is your nephew again?”

“Eighteen.” 

“Case in point.” 

Amara nodded and respected Mary’s point. Though as she took a puff of her cigarette, Amara began to think of everything that’s happened with Castiel and felt sorry. Her expression was easy to read and Mary caught it instantly. 

“Is there something else going on Amara? Something you haven't shared?” Mary asked. 

“Well, my brother beat the shit out of Castiel and now Cas is torn up about it. His wounds are healing but his eyes...I can see it in his eyes that he is no longer the happy guy he once was. He hasn’t been since the accident...” Amara sighed, “But there is a way he looks at Dean as if the brightness and his happiness has been restored somehow. You know what I mean? I’m tired of him lingering in the house all day, I want Cas to finally have a life and I just simply thought that Dean could be a little help for that.” 

Mary nodded and understood Amara and then smiled at her friend, 

“I’ll mention it to Dean...” Mary then frowned at her coffee and asked, “Want a shot of Jack with this.” 

Amara laughed instantly. 

______________________________________________________________________

_ Two days later.  _

Waking up to the rumbling sound of a lawnmower startled Castiel roughly. He jolted out of his deep slumber with a racing heart and a sweaty face.

He had another bad dream. About Chuck. 

...and Gabriel. But the essence of the dream faded away as the motor of the lawnmower went on and Castiel climbed out of bed to go to his window and see the young man who lived next door. 

There was something about Dean Winchester that made his heart leap. There was a unbroken confidence in him that lingered in the air as he moved. It was strong and impactful. Indomitable. Castiel admired it. He admired it so much and he was honest with himself he was also jealous of how strong Dean was. Cas’ stomach lurched and his chest heaved as he sighed out deeply. 

He wanted to continue to watch Dean working in the yard, but it was too much for him. Too much to see someone so strong and sure of themselves. 

_ ‘I wish I could be…’  _ Castiel thought as he went to go sit back down on his bed. He grabbed the journal he kept beside him in the bed and began to write. 

He was beginning to heal and his eyes were no longer swollen. His ribs were no longer broken but his arm was still in a sling. Writing a poem with his left hand, Castiel breathed short breaths. His heart was beating so hard that he could hear it over his breathing. It was like a drum. A constant drum. 

_ Warm green eyes.  _

_ Sandy hair.  _

_ Light freckles...and strong hands. _

_ I love his hands, even though I never held them. _

_ I want to.  _

_ I want to, oh how I want to...hold Dean’s hands. I want to look at his eyes up close. In real life. I want to see him. Him...all of him in real life and not through the glass of my window. _

_ Would he like to see me? My scars are almost gone...Oh God...would he like to see me?  _

There was a knock on the door, a bamming sound that ripped Castiel out of his daze and forced him back into the reality around him. The bamming continued and Castiel was annoyed that Amara hadn’t gotten the door yet. Expecting to see her in the kitchen Castiel called for her but she didn't answer.

Hurrying, Castiel rushed out of his room and carefully went down the stairs. There was more bamming. Castiel rolled his eyes. 

“I’m coming!”

Going to the door Castiel looked out the peephole and to see who it was. It couldn't have been his neighbor bamming on the front door so rudely but Cas’ heart dropped as he saw that it was indeed Dean Winchester. 

The air escaped his lungs and his mind stopped working. Castiel’s mouth went dry and his anxiety was heightened. He was scared shitless….just moments ago he was working on a poem about his neighbor, about wanting to see him and no here Dean was. Just behind the door. 

_ ‘Fuck!’ _ Castiel screamed in his head before slowly opening the door. 

“Hey there.” Dean smiled a little when the door finally opened. Feeling guilty, Dean knew he was wrong for knocking so heavily but he remembered what Amara had told him the last time he saw her. 

“ _ If I’m not home, Dean, be sure to knock loud. Cas is always in the house but he is often caught up in his own world that he might not hear the doorbell.”  _

“Sorry about the banging on your door,” Dean said immediately. 

“What do you want?” Castiel shot with his eyes downcast and Dean lifted his brows in shock. 

“So you do speak…” Dean scoffed and studied Cas’ face, noticing that the scars and bruises he remembered seeing before were healing. Though he decided not to say anything about it. “Your Aunt told me that she left her payment for me and said that you would be home.” 

“And so you resort to bam on the door,” Castiel asked, nervous to be speaking to Dean but still annoyed. He realized he was looking down a lot and it made him even more anxious. Shaking and scared, he felt that Dean Winchester would see right through him and see what a worthless person he actually was. But... Castiel had been  _ dying _ to see Dean’s green eyes. 

So fighting himself, Cas lifted his head and saw Dean. His heart nearly stopped and his lips parted as he gasped. Dean was beautiful...gorgeous and far more stunning than what he ever expected. More ravishing than any romantic poem he could conjure in his mind at night when he writes and here he was in front of Cas.

Solid. 

Strong. 

Striking... and real. 

Castiel tried to breathe as he looked at Dean. But he couldn’t catch his breath. His chest started to hurt painfully and the ache clouded his mind. Cas didn’t notice Dean’s lips moving, asking; 

“May I come in?” 

Castiel didn’t feel or hear himself when he opened his mouth to answer, “Yes.” And he didn’t feel his body suddenly falling and hitting the floor harshly. The last image in his mind was Dean Winchester rushing forward to catch him. 


	4. I'll catch you later, Castiel.

Castiel opened his eyes, slowly waking to the sound of the refrigerator door opening and closing and heavy rushed footsteps. He sat up quickly, maybe a little too fast, and ached all over. He shook his head and it spun rapidly in dizzy swirls. He tried to remember what the hell happened to him, though it didn't take him long at all.

Dean Winchester had reacted swiftly to pick him off the floor, and carried Cas into the living room, placing him carefully on the couch. 

Cas shook his head, “Oh no.” His heart sank to his stomach as it all hit him at once. The embarrassment was thick in his heart, and Castiel couldn’t stand the idea of being so fragile and vulnerable in front of someone he barely knew. _ Someone he wanted to know _... It was bad enough that Dean had seen Castiel’s scars from before. 

Walking into the living room with an ice pack in his hands, Dean noticed that Castiel was awake now. 

“Thank goodness you’re up,” he said with a gentle smile. Castiel was stunned as he watched Dean sit down beside him. 

“I will have to head out soon. But I wanted to stick around and make sure you were okay. I’m sorry for startling you, Castiel.” Dean’s deep voice was kind and soft as he spoke to Cas. Moving quickly, Dean reached forward to place the ice pack on Castiel’s temple, where he had hit his head after falling. 

Yet Suddenly, Cas flinched away, shaking violently. He pushed away from Dean, his trembling growing worse by the second. Dean felt horrible instantly, and thought maybe he was out of line somehow. 

“...I’m sorry. I should’ve never bothered you today--” Dean began, but Castiel interrupted, 

“No.” His voice was too soft. “Don’t be… it’s okay.” Too much of a whisper

“Huh?” Dean couldn’t hear him. Yet Castiel didn't reply with his words, he just looked down at the ice pack and nodded at Dean, who then almost immediately understood. Taking the pack, Dean slowly lifted it and asked, 

“Where does it hurt the most, Cas?”

Castiel’s heart skipped, and he didn’t think before touching his chest carefully. 

Dean lifted a brow, studying Castiel. He forced a quick chuckle before realizing that Castiel was breathing heavily and still shaking. Dean’s own hands began to go numb from holding the ice pack too long, and he moved to go put it back in the freezer. 

“Wait…” Castiel reached out all of a sudden with his left arm. He’d been dying for a moment like this...to be near Dean Winchester...it was peculiar, but Castiel couldn't stand to watch Dean move away from him. And if Dean could have read Castiel’s thoughts, he would have expressed that the feeling was mutual.

Dean sat the ice pack down on the coffee table and turned his attention back to Castiel. Dean settled against the couch cushions just as Castiel pulled his knees up to his chest, grimacing a little from the soreness in his healing ribs. 

“What happened to you?” Dean asked carefully. 

Castiel didn't answer; he just gulped back his anxiety. He didn’t want to talk about it...he didn’t want anyone - especially his next-door neighbor - to know about what had been done to him. A long moment passed between them, awkward and quiet, the two young men looking into each other’s eyes.

“Why were you banging on the door?” Castiel furrowed his brow and broke the silence. Dean sighed gently,

“I guess you hit your head pretty badly...Your Aunt usually pays me on Saturdays. Though since she isn’t here and you fell down, I find it inappropriate to ask for cash at the moment.”

With that, Cas blinked and moved to get up off the couch. He walked steadily to the kitchen. Dean got up and followed. 

Castiel knew where Amara kept the small envelope for Dean, and as soon as he grabbed it he said, “Thanks for working around the yard...D-Dean. Sorry for taking up your time--”

“You didn’t take up my time, Castiel. I wanted to see you anyway.” 

Castiel’s heart sank to his stomach and he looked at Dean, perplexed. “What?”

Dean scoffed and looked to the side. “It’s nothing. I just-” Dean stammered and laughed it off. 

Castiel was confused and Dean could tell. He didn’t mean to blurt out what he just said, though it was true. He had been dying to speak to the boy next door. Now, it seemed so foolish, so much that Dean was ready to leave and pretend that none of this had happened. 

And if Castiel could read minds...he would have said the feeling was mutual.

Without another word between them, Dean stepped forward and took the envelope out of Castiel’s left hand and stepped back. Turned. And left the house as quickly as possible. 

***

  
  
  


Castiel spent his days watching TV, writing, and reading, doing everything in his Aunt Amara’s house to not think of Dean. But none of it helped, as Castiel could only think of the young man next door.

Dean was too close to ignore. He was everywhere. In Castiel’s suppressed thoughts and daydreams, his poems, the sounds in his ears, and the beating ache of his heart. 

_ “I wanted to see you...” _Is what Dean told him, and it was the only thing Cas could think of for days. 

Castiel was so confused and lonely in his thoughts. His torturous thoughts...the inner voice that was similar to his father’s.

“Why would anyone want to see you? You’re pathetic, lowly, and unwanted.” 

Castiel cried and pressed his face to his hands whenever the words ripped through his mind. And he fought it. He fought his father’s voice by thinking of Dean’s. 

The way Dean said his name. The way Dean looked at him. And the fact that Dean actually wanted to see him.

It took Castiel days to admit it to himself...painstaking and too vulnerable, lying down in his bed curled into a ball, Castiel finally said aloud to himself. 

“I want to see him too.” 

***

On another hot Saturday, Dean was working in the Novak's yard again. Pulling up weeds in the heat and wearing a dirty wife-beater, Dean sweated in the sun and was dying for something cold to drink. Though he dared not to go ask his neighbor for anything, and he made a mental note to go home as soon as his thirst became unbearable. 

Watching Dean work for a moment, Castiel bit at his lips and studied how the sweat was dripping down Dean’s back and arms. The scowl on his face was attractive, and Castiel shook his head, trying to escape the rush of thoughts he was having. 

It had been ages since Castiel went outside...he didn’t want to go out on a normal day. But, Dean...with him around, nothing was ever normal for Cas. 

Steadily, Castiel walked away from his bedroom window and made his way to the kitchen. Moving fast and not thinking twice, Castiel grabbed a pitcher out of the bottom cabinet and placed it into the sink. Making a pitcher of lemonade with his good arm, Castiel paused and breathed heavily, before slowly pouring a glass and stepping outdoors for the first time in a long time.

Dean was just finishing his job when he heard the Novak’s front door open and close. He turned and saw Castiel walking down the porch steps and making his way over to him. Dean’s brows lifted and his jaw dropped, as he noticed the glass in Castiel’s left hand.

Cas couldn't believe it himself. The sun was scorching down on his skin and the fresh air was killing him. But Castiel fought it….he fought it hard, because he didn’t want to miss his chance to see Dean this close again. 

“Heya, Cas,” Dean smiled politely, and Castiel blushed and looked away. 

“I saw you working and thought you might want this,” Castiel said.

“Thank you.” Dean took the glass of lemonade and drank it slowly. The lemonade was sweet...too sweet perhaps, but Dean finished it anyway, and smiled before handing the nice glass back to the dark-haired young man. Cas took the glass, and without saying anything he quickly started to head back into the house.

“Wait,” Dean stopped him.

Castiel turned anxiously and waited for Dean to say something, while fighting the serious want to return to the safety of Aunt Amara’s house. But Dean said nothing because honestly, he just wanted to take a moment to look at Castiel, almost as if he was studying Cas’ presence in case he may not get another chance to see him out of the house again. 

Dean was glad to see that Castiel’s bruises were healing nicely, but was sad to see that his right arm was still in a cast.

“What is it?” Castiel asked, growing impatient.

“Nothing,” Dean said. “Take care, Castiel.” He turned to pack up his gardening supplies and headed back next door. Castiel watched him for a moment, and opened his mouth to say, 

_ Wait _

But his voice was inaudible, and his breathing ceased for a moment with his lungs feeling like bricks. 

  
  
  


Later that night, Castiel tried to write in his journal, but he was blocked, as new feelings flooded him. A yearning that he couldn’t place his finger on, but it was an ache for companionship...or just love. 

Love...something Castiel realized he hadn’t felt in a long time. If it hadn’t been for Aunt Amara, Castiel wouldn’t be alive. He appreciated her and loved her. Though he didn’t believe her love could thwart his own self-hatred. But Dean...There was something about Dean Winchester and all the strength he possessed that motivated Cas.  
  


The next day came slowly. Castiel was struggling with his writing in the living room and looking out the window, waiting for his neighbor. All morning went with constant thoughts of Dean and his green eyes. So much that it made Castiel’s hands shake and stomach hurt. 

He yearned helplessly for Dean. 

  
  


Then there was a knock on the front door, and Castiel swore that there was a God when he got up to answer it. 

_ Green eyes and full lips. _

“Hi, Dean,” Castiel said breathlessly. 

“Heya, Cas.” Dean grinned. “May I come in?” 

  
  


Seconds turned to minutes and minutes turned to hours. And it all seemed to pass so easily, as the two young men spoke to each other over glasses of lemonade which were still too sweet. 

Though Dean loved it. He cracked a joke about Cas’ lemonade being too sweet, and was stunned to see Castiel blush and smile a bit.

“I was wondering when I would see that.” Dean let out. 

“See what?” Castiel asked, perplexed. 

“Your smile.” Dean chuckled. “I’ve always seen you frown. I wondered what you’d look like if you smiled.”

Castiel furrowed his brow, “How do I look?”

“You look good…” 

Castiel blushed harder and suddenly started to laugh. Dean gasped at the sound of Cas’ laughter, and soon joined him. It was crazy, but the two of them deserved something lighthearted and peaceful for once. 

  
  


Amara, who had just pulled up in the driveway, walked into the house with bags of groceries, and she heard her nephew and Dean in the kitchen before entering. 

“Nice to see you two getting along,” she said. 

“Yeah, Auntie, Dean just wanted a taste of my world famous lemonade,” Castiel joked, and it made Dean’s eyes widen.

“Guaranteed to give me diabetes.” Dean chortled and continued to drink. 

“See, Cas, I told you about that. You’re gonna make someone sick. Be more careful with that.” Amara pointed harmlessly and walked past the two young men, “Anyways, I have some more things to take care of. You two behave yourselves, and Castiel, make sure to put the food away please.”

“Yes, Auntie,” Castiel nodded as Amara went upstairs, and he got started right away. 

“What do you have planned today?” Dean asked, moving to help Cas pack away the food. 

“Nothing.” Castiel shook his head. 

“Well, I have to get over to Bobby’s shop and do some work. But if you don’t mind, I could come back and chill out with you?” 

Castiel was stunned, but he blushed more and nodded. Unable to really speak for the entirety of two seconds, he forced himself to say, “I’d like that, Dean.” 

****

Becoming friends was easy. Too easy. Dean and Cas found comfort in speaking to each other on a daily basis, and were always eager for each other’s company. Whether they were watching horror movies together while eating oven-baked pizza until midnight, or arguing over video games, Castiel and Dean enjoyed getting to know each other. It was heaven for the two of them and life was perfect, but Dean and Cas found perfection in each other. 

****

_ Two weeks later. _

“I have a few buddies who I think you’d love to meet, Castiel. When you’re ready to come out and meet people.” Dean said, as they looked for another movie to watch on Netflix. 

“Oh, really?” Castiel lifted his brow and took another bite of the blueberry pie Dean had brought. 

“Yeah. Charlie, Benny, and Kevin would love to meet you, actually. And I haven’t had the chance to catch up with them since I got back in town. So it would be like a little reunion.” Dean selected a random movie and sat back on the couch. 

Castiel wondered for a moment, 

“You never told me why you left town, Dean. Was it something serious?”

Dean went still and looked at Castiel. He pressed his lips together and sighed. 

“I’m sorry.” Castiel caught on quickly, but Dean shook his head. 

“Let’s just say my Dad is an asshole.” 

Castiel nodded immediately, “I understand… for what it’s worth Dean, mine is too.” 

There was a silence between them and Dean studied Cas’ frown. He hated to see Castiel so sad. 

Dean scoffed. 

“What?” Castiel asked instantly.

Dean didn’t answer, he just simply gestured to Castiel’s right arm. Cas caught on to it quickly and pouted, 

“Oh. Yeah…” 

“What happened to you, Cas?” Dean asked quietly, the movie beginning to play in the background. It was a romance playing...something Dean didn’t mean to choose. He just simply pressed play on whatever. 

Castiel lowered his face and said, “Let’s just say that my old man is an asshole too.” 

Dean nodded slightly. Castiel rested back into his seat and sniffled. Thirty minutes or so had passed when he felt Dean’s body weight shift on the couch. Dean said something, but Cas didn’t hear him. He didn’t bother to look up, yet he felt Dean coming closer. 

“I’m sorry,” Dean said. Cas looked at him finally, and the two stared at each other. After a short moment, Dean reached out to Castiel carefully. Grabbing his waist gently...unsure if he could touch Cas or not... But Cas didn’t flinch away, not this time. He just looked at Dean directly, in the eye. 

“You don't want to know, Dean,” Cas whispered. Dean winced and suspected something, but he said,

“It’s okay, Cas...You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

Castiel nodded and licked the dryness off his lips. He lowered his head again and breathed, not realizing that he was shaking. That he was in Dean’s arms. 

Dean read the sorrow in Castiel’s face and touched Castiel’s cheek, making his friend look back to him. 

“Dean...” Cas murmured before Dean kissed him. 

It was soft and brief. 

Dean pulled away but Castiel stopped him. Shaking his head, “No..” Castiel thoughtlessly pulled Dean back to him slowly, kissing him back.

Touching each other and moving slowly on the couch, Castiel didn’t understand how hungry he was for it until Dean kissed him. The two of them could barely think, and it all happened so fast. 

Careful with Cas’ injuries, Dean moved to the floor, getting onto his knees in front of Cas while he unbuttoned Castiel's pants and caressed his stomach. Both of their hearts raced, and the moments passed by without a second thought. Dean looked to Cas...eyes locking together. 

Dean moved his lips to ask something inaudible and Castiel nodded a little too fast, licking his lips again. Dean felt his own hands shake as he gently pulled down Cas’ sweatpants. 

Cas’ eyes grew wide at the sudden feeling of Dean's full lips kissing on his cock. His heart skipped beats, and his chest heaved as his stomach caved in. Cas let out a deep moan after Dean opened his mouth and began to suck.

Castiel saw stars. 

Sweating, gasping and moaning, Castiel touched Dean's soft hair, tugging it and squirming his hips wildly as Dean sucked faster. His mouth was hot and his tongue toyed with Cas’ slit, his shaft and his balls. 

Dean licked and worked every part of Cas he could fit into his mouth. Even made time to stop and kiss Castiel’s trembling thighs. Castiel ached and shook all over. He didn’t hear himself whimpering through tears, 

“Dean, please.”

“I’ve got you, Cas…” Dean whispered and sucked on the head of Cas’ dick until Castiel was coming. Dean slurped and swallowed Cas down, feeling him writhe uncontrollably until Cas was nearly begging. 

Pulling off carefully, Dean looked up to Cas and waited for Cas to open his eyes. 

When they looked at each other, the two young men instantly realized that they had made a mistake. 

A big one. 

Dean got up as quickly as he could, and wiped the last bit of Castiel’s come from his mouth. 

Castiel struggled to pull his pants back up. 

“Dean?” He frowned with worry. “Dean...please--” 

Dean looked at how worried Castiel appeared, and wished he could make it go away with another kiss. But Dean couldn’t...especially not with what just happened between them, because in Ravenwood things like that never happened. 

“I will catch you later Castiel,” Dean said before hurrying out of the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its been a while since I have written anything. SO I just want to say thank you to all of you for subscribing and being patient with this story. More to be updated as the future approaches. Stay safe <3


	5. Hold Me Throughout The Storm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **TRIGGER WARNING:** In this chapter, severe mental health issues, self-harm, and mentions of past sexual trauma/surviving abuse and incest will be described. 
> 
> Please, be careful when reading this for your own personal safety.

There was no way they could be together. Not in that way. 

Ravenwood was not the place for such things. 

Dean knew better.

He should have thought twice about it before doing what he did. 

But Cas… Castiel’s eyes.

His sweet and beautiful blue eyes were so soft and wide.

Dean shouldn’t have left, and oh, the things he would have done if he had stayed… the things he would’ve done to Cas. But no, he couldn’t. 

He couldn't make himself go back to Castiel. 

No. 

Dean wasn’t ashamed, he was just...in shock...angry at finding himself in the same place he was before, when he was eighteen and homeless. He hated that he came back to Michigan after all those years on the streets; that he didn’t make it out there on his own like he thought he would. 

_ But If I hadn’t come back then I would have never met him. I would have never seen his eyes.  _

Dean fought his tears and hated himself...he hated himself so much. Everything seemed to be a trigger now as he walked down Baxton street. He was still close. He could still go back to him...

Castiel’s moans were still ringing in Dean’s ears. He could still feel his lips, his kiss, and the vibration of his tremble. Licking his lips, Dean could still  _ taste _ Cas and all his sweetness, and fading innocence, down in his throat. 

  
  


*** 

Castiel was so relieved that his aunt wasn’t home to hear him crying uncontrollably. Heaving and sobbing loudly, he felt so stupid, and he swore to every angel in existence that he was an idiot. A stupid idiot for saying yes to Dean. For nodding when he asked him… for kissing Dean back when he kissed him. For letting him walk out of the house when Cas was dying for Dean to touch him more. 

Castiel curled into a ball on the living room floor, worried to death that this meant Dean would never talk to him again. 

_ Just get up and go after him, dumbass, _ Castiel told himself.  _ Just get up and go _ …. _ no, wait. You can’t because you are too weak, stupid, and selfish to do that. Too scared to even leave the house most times. Castiel, you really are a loser.  _

“No, no, I’m not a loser. I’m not a loser” 

_ Yes you are. You’re nothing and mean nothing to anyone. Not your Aunt or Dean.  _

Castiel screamed as the voice in his mind changed from his own to his father’s. Falling further into his despair, memories of Chuck blossomed like weeds and parasites in his thoughts. Castiel remembered the feeling of Chuck’s hands on him, grabbing him and throwing him down. 

Beating him. Hurting him, and making Cas yell at the top of his lungs. Blood everywhere. Glass shattering. Beer on Chuck’s breath, as he promised in groans that he would kill Castiel someday. 

_ You destroyed everything. You, Cas, ruined everyone’s life. You do not deserve to be loved.  _

Castiel whimpered and pressed his hands to his face.

Memories ran through his mind. The snapping sound of his bones. The cracking in his chest when his ribs broke. Cas begging his father to stop. Chuck never stopping, not until Cas was truly dead and gone for what he did. 

The accident Castiel caused on the freeway. The semi-truck. Their van spinning out of control. Glass shattering. Gabriel’s screaming. The windshield breaking. Naomi shielding Cas. 

_ It was your fault, Cas. Everything will always be your fault.  _

It was all too good to be true. The ice pack. The lemonade. The conversations. The kiss...The warmth of Dean’s mouth. 

It was too good to be true, and Cas believed in his heart that he was too lost, too broken, to be loved by someone like Dean.

***

Castiel retreated to his journals and remained locked in his room for days. Not speaking. Barely eating. Just writing and tearing his journals apart when he couldn't get the words out the way he desired them to be. He was haunted by his dreams, so he barely slept. He was lost in his own world, so he couldn’t hear his Aunt begging for him to come out of his room. He didn’t care. He couldn't care because all he wanted was Dean...and he couldn’t have him. So Castiel made sure that no one saw his sorrow and pain. 

  
  


After the fifth day, Amara was beyond furious. She was done begging for her nephew to come out to speak with her. She was tired of waiting, of being patient, so she stomped out of her house and went next door. 

“Dean Winchester, get your ass out here, NOW!” She screamed, just as Dean was walking out the front door. 

  
  


Before he knew it, Dean’s face was met with a harsh slap from Amara Novak. Dean stumbled and staggered back, and didn't have time to react as he was hit again. 

“WHOA, WHOA!” Mary and Sam came to Dean’s defense as soon as they heard what was going on. But Amara shouted, 

“DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT CASTIEL HAS BEEN THROUGH! HUH, DEAN!”

“AMARA, CALM THE FUCK DOWN!” Mary screamed at her friend, and forced her way between Amara and Dean. 

“Mary, I am sorry, but I have a bone to pick with your goddamn son.”

“What the fuck is the matter?” Mary looked back and forth at Dean and Amara. 

“Oh geez, I don’t know. Dean, do you care to explain what the hell happened between you and my nephew? He’s been locked in his room for days, I can't get him to come out. Not even to eat.” 

Dean opened his mouth to explain himself but Mary stopped him. 

“Amara, whatever problem is going on in your household is your business, and your nephew should have a better handle on himself as a person.---”

Amara’s eyes widened in fury. Mary continued, 

“Whatever problem he’s having he has to solve on his own. And it doesn’t warrant you coming over here and putting your hands on my fucking son.” 

“Mary,” Amara started--

“NO!” Mary shouted and shut Amara’s rebuttal down with no exceptions. Amara looked her friend in the eye and hated her for a moment...then she looked at Dean--who was red with shame. 

Amara held back her own embarrassment and stepped away to walk back to her house. 

When she was gone, Mary turned to Dean, 

“What the hell was that, Dean?” 

Dean simply shook his head at his mother and told her and his brother, “I have to get to work. See you guys later.” 

***

Dean retreated to his work, and for the next week, he remained in the back room at Bobby’s shop, staying away from his house and all the questions everyone had to ask him. 

Still, he was dying inside...dying for Castiel. To be  _ near him _ . It took all of Dean’s willpower not to call Cas. 

_ Don’t think about him. Don’t think about him. Don't think about him. _ Dean told himself on a daily basis as he worked and drove around Ravenwood.  _ Don’t dare think about him. _

_ But it’s no one’s business what he and I did. No one. So why should I even care? _

What was one phone call? One more sugary glass of lemonade? Or even one more kiss?  _ _

Dean ignored his gut as it told him that the ‘ _ mistake’ _ ...was only just the beginning...it would be no one else’s business. No one else’s right to know what happened.

But Dean pushed the feeling, the thought down, and continued to pretend that nothing had happened at all. 

***

“Dean, Where the hell have you been man!?” Charlie Bradbury answered the phone immediately after it rang, and nearly screamed. 

Sitting alone in the back room at Bobby’s, Dean forced himself to smile. It was nice to hear another friend’s voice, “I’ve just been working. Trying to hustle up some cash to get out of this piece of shit town.” 

Charlie scoffed loudly, “What! Bitch, you just got back here! Plus you haven’t called or come over to see anyone. So why the hell are you just going to up and leave?”

Dean laughed at Charlie’s rant and rolled his eyes far back. “Well, Ravenwood’s not exactly a place people like us can stay in forever, anyway, Charlie,” Dean said quietly.

Charlie sighed. She was familiar with where this conversation was about to lead. 

“What’s his name?” 

Dean narrowed his brow before answering his best friend, “You know, I’d rather not say his name, Charlie.” 

“It’s that bad, huh?” Charlie held back her chuckle. 

“Yeah.” Dean forced a smile but he was shaking. He was glad he called her instead of going to her house. This way Charlie couldn't see him. 

“So what happened, Dean? You’re not giving me much to work with,” Charlie said. 

“I...messed up, Charlie.” Dean bit down on the inside of his lip and shook his head. 

“Yeah, I figured that much.” 

“I sucked his dick.” Dean blurted out suddenly and Charlie screamed, 

“WHOA! OKAY! Now we’re talking---” 

“And I also haven’t spoken to him in two weeks.” Dean confessed. 

On the other line, Charlie’s smile dropped, “Dean... what the fuck?” 

“I know, Charlie. I know…” Dean groaned as Charlie began to go in on him. 

“Okay, so what the hell? Is this guy an asshole or jerk or something? What did he do?” 

“No, he’s not. He didn’t do anything, Charlie. Castiel is as sweet as can be. Sweet as pie.” 

“So his name is Castiel...Alright then, Dean. Why the hell aren't you speaking with him?” 

Dean sighed deeply but he didn’t answer. He couldn't. He couldn't find his voice. 

Charlie could tell, “You’re not being fair right now, Dean. If this Castiel guy is as nice as you say he is, then you’re the one being the asshole right now.” 

Tears seeped out of Dean’s eyes as the truth cut him deep. “Shit.” 

“Yeah?” 

“You’re right, Charlie. But I just can’t, okay? Not with the way the people are in this town. Rumors would spread, and I just don't want to see him hurt in any way. Not again at least.”

“Again?” Charlie asked. 

“He had a broken arm and blackened eyes when I met him. Someone hurt him pretty bad and he refuses to talk about it. I understand him though...but what if word got out, you know. He could possibly be beaten up again.” 

“I see. Dean, this is all up to you, man. This is your decision to make to not speak with this guy again. But in my opinion, it sounds like you owe this person an apology. Especially before you decide to up and vanish from his life...again.” 

Dean shook his head, “I can’t do it. I can’t go back to him, Charlie.” 

Charlie sighed, “Then you will have to deal with this on your own. I love you, Dean.”

“I love you too, sis.” Dean said before hanging up at the same time as Charlie. 

The weather forecast playing on Bobby’s TV in the background repeatedly reported that there was a storm coming…

***

The storm came and it rained for days. But it hit heavier on Sunday morning. The neighborhood was quiet as could be, and there were only a few cars on the road. Mary and Sam had gone out to visit John at the hospital the other day, and hadn’t been back home. Dean called his mother as soon as he had arrived at the house. 

“We’re okay, Dean. We’re just gonna stay with John for another night.” Mary had told Dean.

“Okay, mom.” Dean said.

“Dean…” Mary began. 

“Yes?” Dean asked. 

“You need to come see John.” 

Dean couldn't handle it, and hurried to get off the phone…

In his room now, Dean lay in bed trying to sleep, desperately. 

But the rain…

The rain was slapping against the roof of the house. 

The days had been going by in a whirlwind of work and picking up odd jobs just to stay awake, just to stay away from home. Anything to give Dean a proper excuse not to be near  _ him.  _ Not to think of  _ him _ . Not dream of  _ him _ . Dean could barely think of Castiel’s name without hurting inside. 

Every once in a while, Dean’s mind would drift off into the memory that he was doing a piss poor job of keeping at bay. He fought it like hell. Dean fought hard not to think of him.

But then his heart would ache severely and his hands would go numb. 

_ Castiel’s moaning _ would resurface in his mind, and a warm sensation would rip through Dean’s entire body and rest at the tip of his own cock until it swelled painfully.

The want was in the air, Dean gasped and realized he didn’t care anymore. Dean wanted Castiel_. _He wanted to make him his. He wanted him so badly. So much that Dean wished out loud for him, shaking every time the thunder struck.

Then the doorbell rang... 

Lightning ripped through the sky as Castiel shivered in the rain. Standing at the Winchester’s front door, he wiped the tears out of his eyes. It took so much of himself to come out of his aunt’s house. He was so scared and angry. Furious. Furious with Dean. Furious with himself. So enraged and frightened, that he didn’t realize he wasn’t wearing a jacket or shoes. Just a t-shirt and a pair of old baggy jeans. 

He was soaked from his scalp to the soles of his feet, and his lungs felt like broken glass in the ice cold air. His thin body convulsed as he broke down, and he felt like an idiot when he rang the doorbell the second time. But Castiel took a chance. A chance he had been trying to work himself up to for the past two days. A chance to speak with Dean and settle things with him. To settle the ending of their short friendship. 

Thunder clapped again and the wind blew wildly. Castiel lowered his head, giving up and giving into the regret in his gut. 

_ He doesn’t want you. He doesn't want to see you. Go away and never come back,  _ the voice said in Cas’ head as he started to sob and turn away; walking off of the Winchester’s porch. 

_ Always remember you deserve nothing but pain, Castiel. No love, no life. Just death and unforgiveness. Everyone hates you...Dean hates you. Go home and lock yourself away.  _

Castiel was heartbroken as Chuck’s voice echoed in his mind. Though just as he reached the bottom stair, the front door opened. 

“Cas!” Dean called out and saw his friend... _ his Cas _ ...and Castiel froze before looking over his shoulder to see Dean heading his way.

  
  


And for Dean, there was nothing to be said. 

Not for now. 

Not now when they both seemed to need each other so badly. Dean rushed out into the rain, not caring about getting wet...He just simply ran over to Castiel and took him tightly into his arms. 

Dean kissed Cas deeply and held him close in the rain. 

  
  


Dean was relieved, and he smiled while holding Castiel. The rain soaked their clothes and their arms entangled. Dean laughed a little and felt so elated. But...for Castiel it was too late, and Dean didn’t notice until Castiel was pushing him away. 

“Cas?” 

“Don’t touch me...Dean. Please, don’t,” Cas sobbed, and pushed at Dean’s chest roughly. So roughly that he stretched out the neckline of his t-shirt. Castiel pulled and pushed and started wailing suddenly as the thunder clapped. 

“You don’t love me! You don't care about me! Why would you just leave me like that?” 

“Cas… Cas. No no no!” Dean tried, but Castiel was losing control--

“You were never my friend! You left me! You ignored me for so long! You hate me, and I-I hate you, Dean-n! I hate you so much! And-d I-I never-r want to see you again!”   
  


“CASTIEL, NO, NO!” Dean shouted desperately as Castiel started punching at Dean’s chest with all his might, and screamed at the top of his lungs, slapping Dean and cursing him, spitting on him in a mindless fury that left him delirious. 

In all his rage, Castiel couldn't see Dean anymore. He just saw his father’s face. Chuck Novak’s rage meeting his own. Castiel couldn't feel it. He couldn’t feel himself screaming and self harming in front of Dean. Punching his own chest now with his right arm, and clawing at his face. Digging his nails into his jaw and neck. Castiel couldn't feel or hear Dean yelling for him to stop.

He fought his friend just as Dean tried to help him, dragging Castiel up the porch stairs and into the house. 

Castiel couldn’t make out anything. All he could feel was Chuck’s hands. His hands trying to kill Castiel and all of Cas’s internalized hatred for himself boiling over and reflecting on how he moved against Dean. Punching and kicking at his friend, who believed holding Cas tightly was going to help him calm down. But his mental breakdown was only at its beginning, and Dean didn't know what to do, he just locked his arms around Castiel, tears pouring out of his own eyes as he listened to Cas. 

“Daddy, no! Dad, please. Stop it. Please, don’t rape me! P-please don’t. Not again! No, please, Dad! NO! NOOO! I’M SORRY. GABRIEL! GABRIEL! MOM! MAMA! Please! I’m so sorry, mom. I’m so sorry.” 

The wind blew, taking Castiel’s screams with it, and Dean held Cas until he fell silent. 

“I’m sorry,” Dean sobbed now, holding his friend so close to him. Vowing to never hurt him or leave him ever again. “I’m so sorry, Castiel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to my friends, Andromytta, and tfw_cas for beta'ing this chapter for me. I love you guys. <3
> 
> And thank you again guys for being patient with this story. <3


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